


The Rainbow Mynock

by White_Rainbow



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: And Hux tries, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Fanart, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mitaka just wants to help people, Quick couple of words about how Techie lost his eyes, Sweet, Techie just wants to feel safe, Then they find each other, Touch-Starved, so brief mention of violence basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8391172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Rainbow/pseuds/White_Rainbow
Summary: Mitaka has always felt like he was just in everyone's way. All he has ever wanted was to be looked at the way he looks at General Hux, as a hero, as someone to be looked up to. And then Techie came into his life...and neither of them really know what to do about it.





	1. A Lieutenant's Promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nspamc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nspamc/gifts).



> I have been itching to write Clan Techie for a while, but did not know what to write. Then Nspamc popped in and we talked about our love of all things Techie. She encouraged me to write this Mitechie even if no one is really asking for it :3 I hope you enjoy, Nspamc! Thanks for being the muse for this piece!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr! [White-Rainbowff](http://white-rainbowff.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Beautiful Fan Art done by Niibeth can be [seen here!](http://niibeth.tumblr.com/post/157875610428/s-8-panels-wake)

“What do you mean there is an  _ ‘error’? _ ” Hux slammed a fist on Mitaka’s station loud enough to cause everyone on the bridge to jump in unison.

Mitaka looked helplessly at the screen as if it was going to magically say something else other than the glaring red ERROR message blinking before his eyes. 

“That is all it says, sir.” Mitaka kept his voice low and even, but on the inside his mind was screaming, begging him to dive under his station away from the glaring eyes of his fellow officers and the murderous gaze from his general. “The ventrol cannon is operational, I checked with maintenance this morning. This appears to be a…” Mitaka frowned. “...a computer error.”

A chill overtook Mitaka’s spine. He had never encountered a computer error for his cannons. But then, had he ever checked? Every time he had tried to ask the general for permission to inspect the weaponry data centers, Hux merely shrugged him off insisting it was “being handled.” 

_ Still, these weapons are my responsibility. They are  _ my  _ cannons. I should have insisted I, at least, inspect the data center. I should have...have demanded...  _

But then when had Dopheld Mitaka ever demanded anything in his life?

He felt sick.

“Sir, they are jumping to hyperspace,” Thannison chirped, his eyes narrowing at the Lieutenant as he said this.

Hux and Mitaka looked to the viewport in time to see the fleet of Resistance X-Wings disappear one-by-one, leaving behind nothing but vapor trails.

Hux slowly turned back to face Mitaka. The lieutenant wilted beneath the general’s murderous glare. Drawing a deep breath, Hux calmly said, “Lieutenant, please go down to engineering bay T-732 and see what is amiss.”

“Yes, sir!” Mitaka clicked his heels and saluted.

With a tight spin, Mitaka made his way off the bridge, keeping his march confident and his head held high until the doors to the elevator slid shut behind him.

Then panic settled over his chest like an oppressive blanket. 

_ Since when do we have a Bay T-732? Ventrol canons are maintained on R-635. Do we even have a T-level on the  _ Finalizer?  _ I’ve been on this ship for years and I have never heard of it.  _

His trembling finger traced along the smooth, black surface of the directory, pouring over the  white block letters indicating the departments occupying each level. The white lettering stopped at R. 

Mitaka scrunched his nose and squinted at the bottom of the directory. In very small letters, slightly blacker than the plaque itself were the words “T-732: Technician.”

No name. No department. Just “Technician.”

With a shrug, Mitaka punched in the numbers and the elevator whooshed through the  _ Finalizer.  _ From bow to stern, traveling through the star destroyer took about twenty minutes. Mitaka checked his datapad and found he had been traveling for at least thirty.

_ Where  _ is _ this place? _

When the elevator eased to a stop and doors  _ whooshed _ opened, Mitaka found more questions than answers.

Mitaka walked into what appeared to be an enormous computer tower.  Rows of switches, blinking lights, and quivering gauges adorned the walls. Wires hung like spiderwebs from the ceiling. Dozens of deep green panels, riddled with mazes of circuits, were bolted to the walls like art pieces in a gallery. Four giant fans, one for each wall, thrummed loudly, overcompensating for the heat output of the exposed circuit boards. 

Despite the well-circulated air, however, there was a distinct smell of ozone and burnt plastic. 

_ Was there an electrical fire? Is that what caused my canons to freeze up? _

The fluorescent lights did very little to illuminate Mitaka’s way as he walked deeper into the room. Most of the bulbs - the ones that still worked, anyway - were caked with a yellowish film. Flickering as if containing fireflies caught in their final death throes. 

As Mitaka struggled to see in the eerie gloom of this peculiar bay, his boot hit something firm. A shabby mattress lay in the middle of the room. The few blankets that occupied the dusty bed were bunched up to fashion a pillow of sorts. Whomever slept here, slept exposed to the elements of the brutal fans that whipped the air around the room. On the floor next to the makeshift pillow was a dozen handmade figurines composed entirely of copper wiring. Several half-finished figurines lay in the heap on the other side of the mattress, as if waiting patiently to be completed, to join their brethren. 

Mitaka picked up what looked like a rabbit with a flat, feline face and a row of jagged teeth. A loth-cat maybe. The creature’s long ears were detailed with smaller wires to give it a “fuzzy” look. The meticulous detail of the striped and mottled body, the frayed whiskers and a curved toothy smile were made with skilled hands; hands strong enough to bend the wire, but deft enough to bend it subtly to their will. Not many could pull off art like this.

No sooner had Mitaka set the figurine back down did a bouquet of sparks burst from a panel across the room. A barrage of embers sputtered and died before hitting the ground and black smoke attempted to billow out into the room but was quickly swept away by a nearby fan. 

_ Well, I’m no computer technician, but that definitely would cause an “error”,  _ Mitaka mused, walking towards the panel. It sparked a few more times, hissing black smoke at Mitaka like an irked serpent. 

By the fifth spark, something other than temperamental fireworks had caught the lieutenant’s attention. A dark silhouette shifted in the corner of the room several feet away from the blackened panel. 

_ Am I imagining it or...there! Just under the blinking blue lights, and- _

Mitaka froze. Fear splashed over his nerves as the blue lights moved - no,  _ quivered  _ \- before his very eyes.

_ Eyes...those are eyes. _

The deep blue orbs seemed to hover for a moment, then disappeared altogether. 

Mitaka stumbled for his datapad, flipping furiously for his light source application. His mind whirled with possibilities of what sort of creature lurked in the shadows. Fear rationalized that most likely those blue orbs belonged to some sort of monstrous arachnid droid hungry for human eyeballs or the ghost of some long dead _ Finalizer  _ engineer looking for wayward souls to suck.

He punched the “Flashlight” button, and a white spotlight flooded the room with a pale, yet sterile white light. 

He braced himself for a metallic or spectral monstrosity...

...and found a quivering, pale-skinned human instead.

At least, he seemed human; not much could be seen. Pale, lanky arms were wrapped tightly around knobby knees that practically swam in baggy, ill-fitting brown pants. A stained yellow shirt two sizes too big hung loosely on his thin frame; its stretched collar hung over a bony shoulder smattered in freckles. A pair of glowing blue eyes peeked through a curtain of bright red hair. The eyes whirred and clicked for a moment before ducking out of sight as the man buried his head in his arms, away from the bright light.

Mitaka immediately shut the application down, blinking desperately to regain his vision in the gloom once again.

“Hey…” He kept his voice low, dragging the word out in a gentle lilt. “Are you alright?”

The smaller man at least reacted to his voice and again those vibrant cerulean eyes shone through the darkness.

_ I’ve never seen cybernetics like this. Much less in both eyes. What happened to him? _

Mitaka knelt on the ground a few feet away. “It’s okay, I’m not going to-”

A soft voice surfaced from beneath the fortress of limbs the man walled himself in. 

“Just...make it quick.”

His voice was gentle, and slightly familiar. He did not sound Imperial-born, but the cadence sounded more akin to someone from the Outer Rim, Corellia, perhaps.

Mitaka frowned. “Make what quick?”

“I know I made a mistake. I wasn’t fast enough. It’s ruined. I couldn’t fix it.” Though most of the stranger’s face was obscured by his hair and arms, one ocular implant surfaced. The pupil dilated with a series of clicks until only a pinpoint could be seen. “Please...just make my death quick.” 

Mitaka blinked and raised his hands, palms out as if showing he was unarmed. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka, I'm the munitions expert for the  _ Finalizer’s  _ canons. We had an issue with the cannons on the bridge. I’m here to find out what happened. That’s all.” 

The one visible eye seemed to flicker from pale blue to a deep azure as the gentle creature seemed to study him. 

“I’m the techie,” he murmured finally.

“Ah, so you’re the technician of this facility, then? What’s your name?”

The knuckles of the technician’s frail hands slowly turn white as they gripped his thin legs. “I’m  _ the techie,”  _ he repeated.

Mitaka nodded, despite not understanding. 

_ Does he not have a name either? No eyes? No identity? No uniform? Just a technician who lives where he works? _

“Right, yes. Hi, Techie. You may call me Phel.”

Mitaka settled himself on the black tile in front of the Techie. “So then, Techie, can you tell me what happened here?”

If ever there was a hope that the Techie was going to emerge from the shroud of hair and arms he had barricaded himself within, it was dashed the moment Mitaka asked that question. The technician’s body began to tremble. Although more hair fell over one of Techie’s eyes, it did not hide the fact both of the cybernetic orbs were beginning to pulse. His breath came in quick bursts.

It started with hiccuping, short, gulping sobs that were unaccompanied by actual tears. Instead, his eyes began to pulse to the rhythm with his dry sobbing. 

In all his life, Mitaka had never heard a sadder noise.

“Hey...hey...no, its okay, Techie. It’s okay…” 

Those eyes darted from the charred panel to Mitaka to the panel again. Muffled behind his arms, the technician said between soft, squeaks. “I tried...to fix it...It’s such an old...gamma S-8...and I asked...Armie...if we could get an O-9. I like O-9s. They don’t die...O-9s let me know when they are sick...S-8s never tell me when they are sick...They just die...and you have to revive them...and I had to...over and over. I had to sleep here so I could fix it...but I haven’t slept...it kept dying...for days and days and I...I…couldn’t sleep, but then...” Techie’s body shudder with convulsing sobs. “I...couldn’t stay awake...I had to and I couldn’t...and now I can’t bring S-8 back…”

Mitaka felt helpless. The hiccups were coming quicker now. One of the technician’s frail hands was now lacing through his hair, balling into a fist near his scalp. It exposed just enough of Techie’s face to see he was in pain, not just from pulling on his own hair, but from the grief of losing this “S-8” to the guilt of having to  _ sleep. _

Mitaka felt helpless. He wanted to help. He wanted to make everything better. So he did the only thing he could think to do. Mitaka put hand on Techie’s arm.

Both of them froze.

Both of them stared at Mitaka’s hand.

_ Kriff… _

Mitaka didn’t... _ touch _ people. How could he? As the most forgettable of five children, stuck right in the middle of a disorderly household, there was truly no need for him to exist. There was no time to hug him when the little ones were sick. There was no need to pat him on the back when he had two very successful older brothers.

He would try…

He would run to his younger sisters with a bacta bandage if they had a skinned knees, only to be knocked aside by an older sibling to provide seemingly better aid than he. He would offer encouragement to a distraught older sibling, though his words were often drowned out by more comforting words than his. His parents’ motto was always “Dopheld is fine,” or “Dopheld is adaptable,” or the worst “Dopheld is independent.” 

And he wasn’t fine. He was adaptable because what other choice did he have? He was independent which was another word for neglected and lonely. Joining the First Order was not a difficult adjustment. There was no room for sentiment there, but at the very least he was able to feel some sense of importance. Although he had requested to be a part of the medical staff, in a position that truly that helped people, his high marks at the Academy earned him a place on the  _ Finalizer.  _ General Hux ignored his request to work in the med bay and saw fit to assign him as a weapons specialist instead _. _ It was a job held in high-esteem, but it certainly did not seem to  _ help _ anyone.

“If your cannons take out even one Resistance fighter, it helps our cause, Lieutenant,” Hux had said once to him. Although the General’s hands had been clasped beside his back at the time, Mitaka felt as if Hux himself had given him a warm hug.

But now he was touching someone. The clammy skin of his palm on the paper-thin skin of this technician.

He waited for Techie to pull away.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Techie lifted his head, his hair falling back just enough to see some of his features. 

Mitaka held his breath.

Despite his wiry frame, Techie’s face was all soft angles and gentle curves. He let go of his bottom lip, which he seemed to have been chewing on for some time. It was plump and red. Techie licked at it nervously and Mitaka quickly looked away, returning to those peculiar blue eyes.

Mitaka managed a reassuring smile. “It...it will be okay, Techie.” 

“Do you promise?”

The question struck Mitaka hard. Techie was looking at him...no, Techie was looking  _ to  _ him; for help, for guidance, to give him hope.

Mitaka felt his heart swell, and he squeezed Techie’s arm. “Yes, I promise. We will figure this out, alright?” 

Those pale blonde eyebrows knitted together for a moment and his sniffled loudly, but in the end he nodded. “Okay.”

Mitaka looked at the panel. “You need an O-9, you say? Where can I get one?”

Techie winced. “Even if you found it, I don’t think I can fix it. When S-8 died, I tried to put out the flames and…” 

Techie pulled the arm Mitaka was not touching closer to his body. 

“Are you hurt?” Mitaka asked.

Techie shrugged and let out a mirthless chuckle. “I’ve had worse.” His eyes whirred and contracted as if to emphasize this point.

Mitaka frowned. “Let me see.”

Slowly, very slowly, Techie began to unfurl. Mitaka pulled his hand away and scooted back, giving the technician room to extend his long legs and tuck beneath him so he was kneeling. Techie let out a pained hiss as he exposed his left arm. 

The pale skin along his palm and forearm was covered in blisters, red and yellow and weeping. At the center of the island of red welts the skin was almost black. Techie shivered, but allowed Mitaka to gently take his arms to examine the burns. 

“I tried to stop the flames. S-8 was being burned alive,” Techie said, softly. “I couldn’t save it.”

Mitaka felt his chest rise, flooded with a swelling need to take care of this defenseless technician, to take care of the S-8 panel, to take care of everything.

Mitaka drew himself up, fueled with a strange newfound confidence. “Don’t worry, Techie. I am going to take care of everything.”

Techie’s eyes widened, “Can you install an O-9? Can you even find one?”

Mitaka shrugged. “I honestly have no idea what an O-9 is, but I do know that the stockroom just received a fresh supply of circuit boards from Coruscant. If we do have one it will be there. And you can walk me through the installation! I am a quick learner. I was top of my class at Arkanis Academy, you know. Just like the General himself.”

At this, Techie shrank away, he cringed reflexively and pulled his arms away from Mitaka’s grasp. The hiccuping surfaced again. 

“Wait, no, no...it’s okay, Techie.” Mitaka lifted his hands.

“Armie can’t know. He can’t...he will be so angry…”

_ Armie? Is that his superior officer? _

“No one will know about this. I swear to you.”

The promise seemed to relax the technician, somewhat. After a few moments, his shoulders relaxed and his breathing calmed. 

Mitaka rose to his feet. “I will be back with an O-9 and some bacta for your arm. I won’t be long, alright?”

“Okay,” Techie said, but he was clearly not okay. He was sweating now, despite also shivering in the cold merciless air of the cooling fans and drew himself back into his cocoon, hugging his knees with his good arm and holding his left arm close. 

Mitaka winced. “I really will be back. Just...here.” Mitaka knelt down in front of Techie again and unhooked the fasteners of his uniform jacket. His dog tags jangled musically against his narrow, firm chest as he peeled off the jacket. Compared to most men, Mitaka was not particularly well-built. He had tried to bulk up like most of his classmates, but he was cursed with a body of very lean muscle. Still, in comparison to the fragile body of Techie, he must have seemed rather...strong. Techie’s eyes seemed to study the curve of Mitaka’s firm arms as he leaned in to drape the uniform over the technician. As Mitaka fitted the shoulder pads snuggly over Techie’s bony shoulders, he pulled away a little too fast, his cheek brushing a moment against Techie’s.

Mitaka...did not withdraw right away, his face just inches from Techie’s. They looked at each other for a long moment. The heat rising in Mitaka’s cheeks at being this close to  _ anyone  _ seemed to match the surfacing rosiness in Techie’s soft face. Techie’s lip quivered.

So did Mitaka’s.

After a few torturous heartbeats of silence and soft breathing, Mitaka made himself pull away.  His heroic stature weakened a bit and he was left feeling a little vulnerable and exposed beyond the fact he was sitting in just his thin grey tank shirt tucked into his black trousers. 

“Don’t worry, Techie.” Mitaka said, rubbing his neck as he rose to his feet. “I will be back soon.” 

Techie nodded. “Okay, I will be right here.” 

\-----

The moment Mitaka stepped back into the elevator, Mitaka’s datapad exploded to life. The T-level was apparently a black hole for any technology outside of the data center itself and Mitaka found several missed messages from General Hux.

 

**[Gen.Hux 1633h]:** Notify me when you are through with T-732.

**[Gen.Hux 1643h]:** Report your status, Lieutenant.

**[Gen.Hux 1655h]:** Any and all information pertaining to T-732 is confidential. You will report to me directly when you are finished.

**[Gen.Hux 1715h]:** Lieutenant, you report to me at once.

 

Mitaka’s heart pounded. Never had he received a personal message from the General short of reporting to the bridge, but the rise in temperament was palpable.

 

**[Lt.Mitaka]:** Sir, the reception is troublesome in T-732. I will report to you once I am finished.

 

Hux replied, almost immediately as if the message was at the ready should Mitaka reply. 

 

**[Gen.Hux]:** Report immediately to my quarters. I wish to be apprised of the situation.

 

Mitaka’s fingers reflexively obeyed the order and reached for the control panel. He punched in O-Level, the sector for Officer’s Quarters, but his finger hovered over the next digit that would send his elevator soaring towards the Superior Officer’s quarters rather than his own.

_ “Okay, I will be right here.” _

Techie was waiting for him. He put his faith in Mitaka to return and make everything better. The thought of the frail technician hurt and alone and huddled under Mitaka’s Lieutenant’s jacket knotted the Lieutenant’s insides. 

His datapad vibrated again. This time it was an incoming call from **[Gen.Hux]** .

_ Techie is waiting for me. He needs me. _

Mitaka’s finger shook over the 9.  If he pressed 7-0-0 he would be disobeying a direct order. If he dialed in 9-0-0 then who knows how long Techie would be waiting on that ancient, frayed mattress, shivering under his uniform jacket. 

_ “It will be okay.”  _

_ “Do you promise?” _

Mitaka cut the call by swiping the “ignore” bar on his datapad, punched in the numbers 7-0-0…

...and tried to ignore the dread twisting at his insides. 

_ There’s no going back now. I’m coming back, Techie. Just hang in there. _


	2. The Eulogy for S-8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good news is Mitaka can help Techie! The bad news comes in the form of...Hux...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow us on tumblr! [White-Rainbowff](http://white-rainbowff.tumblr.com/)

After grabbing the first aid kit and a fresh uniform jacket from his quarters, Mitaka hurried to the engineering stockroom on Bay R105.

There was, in fact, a  _ surplus  _ of O-9 panels in stock. Officer Hent handed one to him without bothering to ask Mitaka to fill out the necessary paperwork. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just tryin’ to get rid of these things,” Hent said not bothering to take his boots off the front counter of the stockroom, nor his eyes from his datapad. “New guy bought 100 instead of 10. Next screw up and I’ll have him repaint the  _ Finalizer _ , while in orbit.” Hent snorted into his caf mug at his own cleverness.

Mitaka tucked the grey plastic box under his arm. “Thank you, Officer,” he said and paused. “Do…you have an officer here named Armie?”

Hent arched an eyebrow. “Nope.”

“Really? Who’s your superior.” Hent shrugged. “It’s technically Greaf, but engineering always kind of takes care of itself. We have team leads. Managers are just there in case kriff all goes wrong. Most problems we fix ourselves.”

“And there definitely isnt an Officer Armie that works in engineering?”

Hent shook his head. “No, sir, and I would know, every engineer from here to the bridge comes in here. I know ‘em all.”

Mitaka nodded. “Thank you, officer.”

_ Well whomever Officer Armie is, they should have checked in on Techie before I got there. A right bastard they must be. _

By the time Mitaka got back to T-732, the potential consequences of ignoring his superior officer began to pluck at his nerves.

_ And now I am throwing it all away? What is wrong with me? I should have seen Hux first. I should have obeyed orders. I should have- _

“You came back.”

A tightness seized Mitaka’s chest, warmth flooded his veins. His own words echoed in his head and it reassured him.

_ It’s going to be okay... _

Techie was no longer huddled in the corner, and was now sitting on his mattress, legs tucked beneath him facing the door as if he had been anxiously waiting for Mitaka’s return. Despite the lack of apparent tear ducts, Techie’s eyes seemed to glisten as they fixated on Mitaka with apparent admiration. He was no longer wearing Mitaka’s jacket, and instead was hugging it tightly in his right arm, part of it pressed firmly against his cheek. 

“Of course I came back,” Mitaka said softly. 

_ How could I not come back for you?  _

Techie was gazing at him as if Mitaka was some sort of hero swooping in to rescue him, and not some bumbling Lieutenant who had never experienced a brave moment in his life. Even the act of disobeying his general to return to this technician’s aid did not seem particularly brave. In fact, Mitaka felt his knees knocking slightly at the mere thought of having to face Hux again.

“You found one!” Techie gasped, ripping Mitaka away from his fears.

“I did,” Mitaka replied and walked towards the mattress. “They...just came in. So, if you need more, your work orders should be filled quicker next time.” There was no need to tell the technician that his request had been met some time ago and apparently no one remembered to tell him.

_ I will, however, be speaking to this “Officer Armie” about providing sufficient supplies to his technicians in an orderly fashion.  _ And feeling emboldened by his potential order to this officer, Mitaka added.  _   And Armie shall see to it that Techie get a proper uniform if he is to continue serving on the  _ Finalizer. 

Mitaka leaned the panel against the mattress and knelt down in front of Techie. He placed the first aid kit beside him and flipped it open, feeling those cybernetic eyes study his every movement. 

_ Keep your hands still. Don’t let him see you shake. Please, just don’t shake. _

He took out the gauze and before he could ask, Techie had extended his left arm to Mitaka. “Will it hurt?” Techie asked. He chewed on his lip as he watched Mitaka dip the bandage into a small jar of bacta. 

Mitaka blinked “Only for a few seconds, before the numbing agent kicks in. Have you never used bacta before?” 

Techie looked away and pressed Mitaka’s jacket against his cheek a little tighter. “I...yes, but I don’t remember it. I was unconscious. And before that the Bla...they...never…” His voice trailed away.

Mitaka didn’t press him and quietly took Techie’s arm in his hands. Techie shifted, but didn’t pull away, in fact he shifted a little closer to Mitaka. Mitaka took his time, gently wrapping the bacta-soaked bandage around Techie’s arm. His mind whirled with questions, questions he shouldn’t ask.

_ Where did he come from? And who found him? Is he some sort of slave? Indentured servant? No, of course not. The First Order would never enlist servitude. Besides, we have plenty of skilled technicians that could have worked that room. Several of them  _ should  _ be in that room. Yet he takes care of it all by himself.  _

Techie sucked in breath through his teeth and tightened his grip on Mitaka’s jacket. 

“I’m sorry,” Mitaka said, easing up on the binding. “Are you okay?”

Techie nodded, but he was starting to sweat now. Another layer and he should be fine, but the pressure was going to be painful until the bacta soaked in and numbed the pain entirely. 

_ And here I am burning with questions that are none of my business.  _

The technician let out a quiet whimper and pressed the jacket hard against his cheek. He squirmed his entire body, but seemed to be concentrating all his efforts on not moving his arm for Mitaka.

_ Whatever you ask him, do it fast. _

“Did...you make all of those animals, Techie?”

Techie immediately stopped whimpering and looked back at the animals, the jacket whipping around as he turned. “Do you like them?” He looked back at Mitaka with round, hopeful eyes.

Warmth filled the lieutenant’s chest. “I really do. I used to fold paper into animal shapes when I was a kid. I could only make little mynocks and loth-cats though.”

Techie perked up. “I made a mynock!” 

The bacta seemed to be kicking in because no sooner did Mitaka tape the ends of the bandage did Techie twist away and lunge over the bed. He picked up a copper wire creature with an oblong body topped with a thicker ring lined with terrifying rows of jagged “teeth” for a head. A pair of rainbow wings made of conductive wires adorned the sides of an oblong body. The head was little more than a thick ring of wire lined with a terrifying row of jagged teeth. “I haven’t named him yet,” Techie said. “I just finished him. I will think of a good one, though.” 

He held the mynock with his uninjured hand. His flattened palm was pinkish. It looked soft, and a little sweaty. Mitaka hesitated. If he was going to take the mynock from this gentle creature, he had to be sure not to touch that soft, delicate skin.

_ He didn’t flinch before when you touched him before, but then again he was hurt and scared. He is comfortable now. Don’t scare him away. Don’t… _

Techie’s bandaged arm took Mitaka’s wrist and turned the lieutenant’s hand, palm up. His fingers, slid across Mitaka’s palm towards each of the lieutenant’s individual digits. His skin was so soft. Mitaka stopped breathing. Mesmerized, he watched Techie diligently worked Mitaka’s hand until it was perfectly flat. 

“You have to hold your hand like this or the mynock’s sharp edges will cut you. So just be careful okay?”

“Okay,” Mitaka breathed, thankful that Techie was too preoccupied with the lieutenant’s hand to realize the flustered state he had put the officer in.

Seemingly satisfied with Mitaka’s pose, Techie gently placed the mynock on his palm. It was...light. Surprisingly so for such a large piece that covered most of Mitaka’s hand. The jagged teeth of the mynock’s suction cup head did poke into Mitaka’s skin, and the edges of the body and tail seemed razor sharp, but keeping his hand flat kept him out of danger’s way. 

The detailing was phenomenal. From the pair of smaller circles welded on top of the sucker face to serve as eyes to the peculiar ridges along the mynock’s body. Mitaka also noted that the mynocks eyes were actually threaded bolts glued into the eye sockets. They were painted blue. In fact, as Mitaka glanced at the other figurines he realized they were all fixed with painted blue eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” Mitaka said, holding the mynock out to Techie.

“Thank you, Ph…Phel…” Techie’s face burned red.

_ No one calls me Phel.  _ Mitaka thought.  _ I’ve always wanted to be called Phel, but no one has ever taken the time to… _

Mitaka felt a lump well in his throat that he tried to swallow down

“We should get this panel set up,” Mitaka said, clearing his throat and rising to his feet. He took off his uniform jacket and was about to drape it over the mattress, but Techie reached up and snatched it from him. The jacket joined its fellow uniform compatriot on Techie’s lap. 

“You’re going to keep that jacket safe too?” Mitaka asked with a smile.

Techie beamed and nodded. “I’ll walk you through everything, Phel!” Techie said, Mitaka’s name seemed to sliding out of his mouth easier the second time. 

And Mitaka could not get enough of hearing it.

Disassembling the S-8 was easy. Unscrewing, unhooking, and unclipping took no more than a minute. It did however take an additional minute for Techie to thank the S-8 for all its hard work and for lasting longer than the technician thought was possible. He then recounted the first time he laid eyes on S-8. He recalled the good times and the inevitable decline. The circuit board was not very heavy, but Mitaka had to hold it out to Techie so that the devoted technician may give his proper goodbye speech to the charred panel. He did his best to not let his tired arms shake from extending them for so long. After Techie was satisfied, Mitaka opened up the O-9’s package, removed the new circuit board and tucked the S-8’s charred remains inside the box. When the “coffin” was sealed, they both gave a ceremonious salute to the final resting place of the S-8.

Installing the O-9 was more complicated than expected. Though lighter than the S-8, the O-9 was not hooked up the same way the S-8 had been connected and several adapters were needed. But only certain connectors had to plug into the wall, the rest were stretched to other panels to - as Techie described - “help O-9 get along with the other panels.” This was also the first time Techie had installed this kind of board as well, and there was a lot of trial and error on what would work and what did not. One set of lights would blink to life when others sputtered out. Some fans would refuse to spin, and yet others would whirr to life before Mitaka was ready for them to activate. One overzealous fan came dangerously close to sucking in Mitaka’s dog tags. He pulled the chain away at the last moment and tucked them back into his tank shirt.

The installation would have been frustrating had it not been for Techie’s instructions. The technician sat in the center of his mattress, hugging both of Mitaka’s uniform jackets close to his chest as he went through each direction with bright enthusiasm. Each order started with the words, “Phel, can you please…” and every time Mitaka completed a task, even if it was the simple task of tightening a loose screw, Techie would exclaim, “thank you, Phel!”

As far as Mitaka was concerned, he would happily replace every single panel in this strange room if it meant hearing Techie say his desired nickname in that sharp Outer Rim accent.

When the final wire was connected, the O-9 made several “chirps.” Several other panels seemed to follow suit. 

“Phel, you did it!” Techie bounced on the mattress which squeaked loudly beneath him. “Listen to them! The other circuit boards like him! He’s going to be so happy here. Thank you, Phel!”

Mitaka wiped the sweat from his brow, only then realizing that he probably had just smudged charred residue and sticky thermal paste on his forehead. 

Techie offered his pillow/blanket for Mitaka to wipe his face on, but he declined. “I’ll just hop in the shower after this,” he said looking at his grimy hands and the black smudges along his upper pectorals and biceps

Techie blinked up at Mitaka for a moment, his eyes flitting around the Lieutenant’s body before hiding his face on one of Mitaka’s uniforms and nodded. “Oh okay,” he...might have said, but it was hard to tell against the thick uniform. The blush on the technician’s face was hidden but his ears and scalp through his red hair practically glowed.

Mitaka’s heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of Techie being bashful around him _ ; him  _ of all people! This sweet technician, who clung to his jackets as if holding onto the memorabilia of some Imperial hero.

_ What if he finds out I am not a hero? What if he comes to see me as the coward everyone else does? _

Dread coiled around his stomach. “Techie, may I have my jacket please?”

Techie handed one jacket to Mitaka. As the lieutenant slid the jacket back on, the technician seemed to be wrestling with himself as to whether he was going to actually give the remaining jacket to the lieutenant not. He chewed on his lip with inner-conflict before finally holding the jacket out to Mitaka. “Thank you, Phel,” he looked up with a soulful gaze soulful  despite looking through cybernetic replicas, “for everything.”

_ Please...never stop calling me Phel. Please always look at me like a hero. Please never find out I am anything but. _

“You're welcome, Techie.” 

_ I wish I at least knew your real name. _

Mitaka took his second jacket and knelt down in front of Techie. “You did most of the work, anyway. I was just following orders.” He draped the uniform over Techie again. Techie worked his long arms into the sleeves. Save for the long unkempt hair, Techie did not look bad in the jacket. Although he did not quite fill it out in the shoulders and it was a little short for his long torso, the look in a uniform seemed to suit him. It would be a shame to cut off all that hair. Tied back maybe...who was he going to see down here?

_ Who indeed... _

“Techie? You don’t have to stay down here any longer. You do have quarters besides this room right?”

Techie nodded. 

“But not in the upper levels?”

Techie shook his head.

Mitaka frowned. “Well, I can help you move your mattress back to your quarters if you like before I go.”

“But it's a secret. Armie says it has to stay a secret.”

_ You have so many of those it seems,  _ Mitaka sighed.  _ But why? And what right does this Officer Armie have telling Techie how to live his life? _

Still, Mitaka nodded. “I assure you, I will not tell another soul where you live.”

Techie didn't seem convinced and stretched out his bandaged hand as if testing it.

“I know it doesn’t hurt anymore, but if you don’t want it to scar at all, you’ll need to keep the bandage from moving as much as possible. 

“If...you promise…”

Mitaka placed a hand over his heart. “I promise. I promise on the life of O-9.”

Techie brightened at the mention of the O-9 panel.

“Okay, Phel…I trust you.” 

\-----

As it turned out the technician’s quarters were in fact so secret that Mitaka had not realized there was in fact a  _ whole other floor _ below T-732 dedicated to Techie. The floor was not much larger than the data center above, but it was definitely larger than Mitaka’s living space. Sparse though. And dark. There were more figurines that lined fine oak shelves, but the only furniture in the room was the ratty old mattress, which Mitaka laid out in the center of the room as Techie had requested.

“I...have a couple of chairs that I don’t really use in my own quarters,” Mitaka mentioned as Techie walked they him to the door. “Would you like them?”

“Will you sit in one of them sometimes?” Techie asked, hopefully.

A wide smile stretched across Mitaka’s face. “If you would like me to, yes.”

“I would, Phel! Thank y-”

The door slid open on its own. 

“ _ You _ .” 

“General!” Mitaka gasped, gaping dumbfounded at General Hux’s fuming red face.

“Armie, don't!” Techie cried as Hux grabbed Mitaka by the uniform and hauled him out of Techie’s room. “Let him go!”

“Get back to your room,” Hux snapped. He slammed Mitaka hard against the wall. “What are you playing at, officer?”

“N-nothing, sir! I was trying to help!” Mitaka stammered, fear frosting over his body. 

“He was helping, Armie!” Techie tugged at Hux’s shoulder, but Hux shrugged him off.

“Bren, I won’t tell you again. Go back to your room.”

“No!” Techie grabbed fistfulls of his hair. “Nonononono, don't call me that.  _ Don't _ . They will hear you. They are going to find me. They are going to take me away again.”

_ Armie? Bren? What is happening? _

Mitaka watched the enraged, twisted features of the general suddenly break, soften, relax. Gently he released Mitaka and turned around. “Bren” he said slowly. “It’s alright. They will not find you.”

Techie’s chest rose and fell in quick succession. The grip on his scalp tightened, knuckles turning white. “No, they will. They always find me.”

“Shhh...it’s okay.  You are safe. You are on my ship remember?”

Techie hesitated for a moment then nodded as much as his fists gripping his hair would let him. 

Hux drew himself up in a heroic stance. One fist on his hips, the other over his breast. “And who would dare challenge the might of the First Order?” Hux asked.

Techie loosened his grip on his hair, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “No one?”

“That is correct. No one. And I will destroy anyone who dares to hurt you.” Hux flashed a pointed look at Mitaka before returning his softened gaze to Techie. “Now, go to your quarters. I will see to you shortly.”

Techie began to move then hesitated. “You won't hurt Phel, right?”

Slowly, Hux turned back to Mitaka. “Oh no, I wouldn't  _ dream  _ of hurting…‘Phel’.”

Mitaka gulped.

Techie seemed satisfied.

“Bren...the jacket.”

Mitaka watched Techie’s face break into devastation, but he soundlessly shed himself of the uniform, and handed it to the awaiting hand of Hux, who did not turn to face him. “Thank you. Now run along.”

The moment the door slid shut behind Techie, Hux’s neutral expression melted into a glower. “Tell. Me. Everything.”

And Mitaka did. The mattress, the insomnia Techie endured while trying to keep the old panel alive, the injuries; even the overstock of panels that Techie believed weren't available.

He...left out the figurines, the rainbow mynock in particular. Mitaka wanted to keep that memory for himself, especially if he was about to be reassigned to some remote outpost on Dagobah, it may be all he had left of his time with Techie.

Hux was silent long after Mitaka was done speaking. He regarded Mitaka with an inscrutable look. “I did not know.” Hux said finally.

“Sir?”

“I did not know he was...sleeping in T-732 to save that damned circuit board. That O-9 panel, he begged for it even when the S-8 was running at full capacity. Eventually I just ignored his requests, even when he claimed the S-8 was dying.” Hux winced. The pained expression was peculiar on someone who had only ever shown his crew cold stoicism or passionate rage with no varying degree of emotion.

“Will his arm be alright?” Hux asked. “Should he see the med bay?”

Mitaka shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, that's entirely up to…”

“No. I am asking  _ you.  _ You treated him. You have had medical training at the Academy. Tell me in your opinion _ does he need to see the med bay _ ?”

Mitaka shook his head. “No, sir. He will be fine. There is no infection and it seemed to have happened fairly recently. Bacta works wonders on fresh third stage burns.”

Hux appeared to relax. “Thank you, Lieutenant. You have done very well.”

“Sir…” Mitaka shut his mouth, damming the flood of questions that threatened to burst through.

Hux sighed. “You have questions.” 

Mitaka nodded.

Hux thought for a moment. “You have earned some answers I suppose. You are a part of this now.”

Hux let out a sigh and looked down at Mitaka’s...no,  _ Techie’s  _ jacket, turning it over in his hands. 

“His name is Brendol Hux, Jr. He is my half-brother, the product of my father’s insatiable desire to spread his seed to the outer reaches of space and a young serving woman in Taris during one of his…” Hux sniffed derisively, “‘business trips.’

“Brendol did not care to know the boy nor his mother once she came forth to say the child was his. Furious that Brendol provided her nothing but just enough credits to send her and her child back to Taris, she sold the boy to the Black Sun. He was four when they took him. He was raised to be a holonet slicer. They…” Fury glinted in Hux’s eyes. “...They did terrible things to him, the least of which was gouging his eyes out only to place them with cybernetics to help aid him in becoming a more efficient hacker for them. 

“It was only by chance that I found him, or rather he found me. I did not know he existed, but he knew of me and my station. I do not know how long he waited, but eventually the  _ Finalizer  _ found itself traveling across the Outer Rim near enough to Nar Shadda where the cartel was based. He managed to slice my personal datapad while I was on the bridge about to give the order to jump to hyperspace. It was an old picture of a four-year-old Bren and his mother. The only word above it said…” Hux blinked a few times in rapid succession, his frosty orbs melting ever so slightly. 

“‘Brother, help.’”

Hux cleared his throat. “I did not bother looking at the DNA breakdown he had also attached. I knew he was family the moment I saw the image. He looked so much like me when I was a boy.”

“And you rescued him.” Mitaka said.

Hux’s expression darkened. “Oh, I did more than that, Lieutenant. I shut down the Black Sun. I fed intel in through a back door to our own slicers so that it would appear the Black Sun was assisting the Resistance. With Snoke’s permission, I lead the assault. I killed as many of them as I could and let my stormtroopers clean up the rest while I searched for Bren. I found him cowering in a room not unlike T-732. Only that room was his  _ only  _ room. They kept him there under lock-and-key.” Hux swallowed. “I never wanted him to endure that again. I snuck my brother on board. I relieved our staff that maintained T-732 and Bren seemed to take a liking to it immediately. Perhaps it is familiar to him. I assure you if I had known he was sleeping in that room…”

He let his words hang there, a tremble surfaced in both of his black gloves as well as his voice. “I truly did not know…”

“He is okay. And he has his O-9. He seems happy.”

“Did you install it for him?” 

“I did.” 

Hux hummed his approval. “I...thank you, Lieutenant. You have done more for him than I would have expected. I was right to have chosen you to check in with him.”

“May I...visit him from time-to-time, sir?”

Hux’s eyes narrowed.

Shoving the jacket back into Mitaka’s arms, Hux blew out a breath. “That...will be fine. Provided it does not interfere with either of your functions aboard the ship. You have done more for him today than I have in too long. I only ask that you be...gentle with him. He needs protecting and I am not always around for him as today illustrated.”

Mitaka took the jacket in his hands. 

_ Protecting… _

For the first time in Mitaka’s life, he felt...strong. He felt protective. If the Black Sun had come through the door at that very moment he would fight every one of them with his bare hands if it meant keeping his Techie safe.

_ My techie...Bren… _

Hux regarded Mitaka for a moment, then clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You did a good job today, Lieutenant. Thank you.”

Mitaka’s eyes widened. His heart felt fit to burst. 

_ My hero is touching me. My general is  _ touching  _ me! Keep it together. Don’t smile. Do. Not. Smile. _

Mitaka burst into a wide smile. “I will do everything in my power to keep him safe, sir. You can count on me.”

“Yes,” Hux said with the barest hint of an approving smile, “I believe that I can.”

\-----

 

**Epilogue: One Week Later...**

 

“Lieutenant!” Hux barked just as Mitaka made his way off the bridge. 

Mitaka spun around and clicked his heels. “Sir!” 

Hux’s face was as enigmatic as always, but his pace was quick. A quick-paced General was not necessarily a good thing. He carried with him a small box. “This came across my desk. I believe it is yours,” Hux announced loud enough for whole the bridge to hear. As he marched up to the lieutenant, however, his face shrank to a scowl as he shoved the box into Mitaka’s chest. 

“It is from Bren,” he whispered harshly. “I will not play courier to the two of you, so this will be the  _ only  _ time I do this. Understood?” 

Mitaka took the palm-sized box marked “conductive cords” from Hux. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Hux made a noise that could only be described as a  _ harumph _ . 

Before he turned to leave however, he paused, tucking his hands behind his back and peering into Mitaka’s eyes as though scrutinizing him thoroughly. “Are you seeing him today?”

Mitaka, was in fact, was on his way to see Techie at that moment. He had seen the technician after his shift every day for the last week since they met. Their time together consisted mostly of sitting in the chairs Mitaka had given him and either sat in awkward silence or spoke to each other in awkward short sentences. Mitaka had brought biscuits last time, however. The biscuits helped. Techie’s finger grazed Mitaka’s as he reached for the biscuit tin. Mitaka had also been allowed to hold Techie’s arm for a moment longer than necessary as he was looking over the almost fully-healed burns. It had been an amazing week.

“I am, sir. Is that alright?”

Hux gave no indication. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Lieutenant.” 

Before Mitaka could thank him again (which the lieutenant had planned to do profusely), Hux turned and walked away.

As the elevator made the trek to T-733, Techie’s quarters, Mitaka popped opened the box and reached in blindly. Something sharp bit him. He drew his hand back with an irritated hiss. He peered into the box, hoping to not see something moving inside. Metal glinted in the harsh lights of the elevator. With a careful shake, Mitaka coaxed the object out of the package and into his palm.

A fearsome, yet whimsically colorful mynock stared up at Mitaka with blue eyes and sharp, pointed teeth. 

A rolled up note was lodged in the mynock’s suction-cup maw. In shaky black letters it read:

 

_ “Hi Phel. I made this for you. His name is Phel too, but you can name him something else if you want. He is yours now. I think he will like you. I also think Armie likes you. He sees me more now because of you I think. And also I wanted to tell you this but I can’t say it when you look at me but-” _

 

Tears blurred Mitaka’s vision for a moment. He blinked them away desperately so that he could read the last two lines over and over again, until the elevator reached its destination.

 

_ “I like you, Phel.  _

 

_ “Thank you for saving me.” _


End file.
